To go back
by N Snape
Summary: Things are not easy if you are a DeathEater spy, and then, someone can discover you... Please, R&R. Snapefic, slash


TITLE: To go back 

AUTHOR: N snape. Thank to my beta Titania for her help!!!! :) 

PAIRING: SS/LM, SS/ER, SS/? 

RATING: R

GENRE: Angst/Drama/a bit of Romance. *warning!!!* There is a rape mention in this cap!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FEEDBACK: nsumeragi@yahoo.es

DISCLAIMER: Well, the usual history, the main characters belong to Rowling, and I do not earn anything for writing this except my own amusement, and yours.

SUMMARY: Severus had become the Dumbledore´s spy, and now he has to survive... Very Dark fic.

NOTES: This fic narrates as Severus managed to be as he is and to doing what he does. It is Slash, or yaoi, or m / m. I have catalogued it like R because violent scenes and allusions exist to sexual consented activities or not, though the fic is not only it: if you read beyond this first chapter you will be able to verify it. The important thing is the past and Snape's present, when he performs the most distressing and dark things... 

If you know Spanish, please go to read the original Spanish fic, "La vuelta atrás", in http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=207586  
  
  
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// ... // are thoughts. 

  
**1. The past in a booth: Malfoy**

The rain was falling down with intensity diluting the late afternoon. Severus Snape could listen to the soft hammering against the crystals, like a strange and distant canticle. He opened the eyes and allowed to the blackness of his eyes to join that at the roof. To his side, Lucius Malfoy's quiet breathing was resounding like a drum; the man was sleeping deeply. Severus suppressed a shiver, trying to erase the immediate past of his mind. The lewd hands of his companion crossing his body, his kisses overflowing saliva and perversion...

He had acceded to it. As always, certainly, though the reasons of his delivery had changed very much throughout the time. 

Time ... 

How long had he been going to bed with Malfoy? The first time had been in Hogwarts. They seemed centuries, and nevertheless ... How long had it passed? Three ... four years? Now he was twenty-one years old. He was young, very young. And nevertheless, he was feeling as an elder tired of the life, exhausted, defeated. Yes, the time had played him a bloody pretty joke. 

The first time that he went to bed with Malfoy, his first time, had been horribly painful. The fair young man, his classmate, his... his friend!, had forced him in an empty classroom, on a desk. He had whispered him nice words to the ear, sweet words like the honey. And he, dreamer, had believed him. He had been so stupid, so naive... But he was the bastard of greasy hair, the ugly, especially and first of all, ugly, large-nosed, slimy, intolerable and wicked git.

Well, this kind of commentary had been heard so often around him that intimately he had begun to believe it.

It hurt him... oh, yes! It hurt so much... Looking at the mirror and to find his elongated and angular face framed by his black and straight hair, already greasy and opened for the second day of having washed it. And that damned nose, enormous and prominent as a falcon beak, standing out in his flat cheeks always pale. And his eyes... He always had thought that his black eyes were brilliant and intelligent, nice, but his companions only saw in them his resentment, his supposed evilness. 

But ... was he bad? The eleven years old Severus had asked it himself when his Gryffindor classmates had said it to him, especially that daring child who was always the center of attention, Sirius Black. The boy had looked at him, he had pointed his finger at him, and said: 

"Snape is bad, like a vampire! Look at his face!" 

And then he had laughed. 

And all the children, incredibly, had given him the reason, and had laughed with him. Severus felt a terrible heat inside him rising from the stomach to the throat, almost choking him. He tried to say something, probably even he had said it, but his voice was not heard in the uproar of the laughter. His own Slytherin companions looked at him over their shoulders, without bothering to defend him from the humiliation. So the small Severus had turned and run, wrapping his hands over his ears.

He was not liked by them, sure, but well, he didn't like them either. And who he liked least was this damned Black, and of course his friend Mister Perfect-Potter and company. The spoiled Gryffindor... But ... nonetheless... neither he had made friends in Slytherin.  He had spoken very little with his housemates, and almost always for topic of studies. This way he had known their names, and each one was tied in his mind to their main skill. 

//Rosier is the one who fails in Transfiguration. Avery is the clumsy one in Potions. And

Wilkes also, he almost does it worse... 

Lestrange always falls asleep in History. And always, always, he will ask me for my notes. 

Goyle just doesn´t know anything, in any subject. How did he get into Hogwarts? But wait, if Crabbe could pass... 

Nott has problems in Flight. And Charms too...

And Malfoy... //

Well... Malfoy was different. He was moderately skilled in everything, and moderately good at Defense against the Dark Arts. But especially, he was the leader in a natural way, like the boy Potter. He possesed a kind of elegance which separated him from the people, a touch of distinction and superiority. To Severus's eyes he was like an angel, pale and fair, almost fragile, with those gray cold and ethereal eyes, dangerous like a glacier. Because Lucius Malfoy was dangerous, and he would do anything to achieve his goals. 

Severus knew it, and he avoided him in every way that he could; trying anxiously not to cross in his way. No one got in his way, they all knew it. Being he target of the jokes and Black's pranks had had the strange positive effect of showing him with the time as someone capable of looking after by himself, with an enviable knowledge of curses that was better not tested. All this with no needs to remember his famous smiles of scorn and sharp sarcastic commentaries. People criticized him in the same measure than they were afraid of him. And Severus preferred being alone to feeling the humiliation of the laughter; nothing hurt him so much. 

But Malfoy, certainly, had not fled as the rest when he faced his walls. Malfoy had seen something in him, or thus he had said, something that was *special and valuable* to him.  

Severus had never been neither special or valuable to anybody. 

His mother never stopped sayingwhat a useless and disappointing thing that he was. In spite of the fact that he was working very hard trying obtain the best marks, and to behave in an irreproachable way in the school, she was always repeating him that he was an irresponsible child unable to follow rules. 

Rules in his house were very rigid, but necessary, because his father and she had to work, and they could not be disturbed. Because he, though he was the number one student in the school, was disobedient at home. He came minutes late to meals, and the schedules were marked well. He made noise when he walked, slept, moved. And they needed concentration. Because he wanted to be out of the house when there was nothing to do out of the house, and he could not be still in his room. Studying, certainly. 

He had tried to study, and to read all these books of Potions and Dark Arts that existed in his house. Because of it he had learned so much, and knew so many things. Already there weren´t any books left which he hadn´t read. But in spite of his efforts, his parents had never told him that he was valuable or special. Not even a good son. 

His father didn´t say anything, never. His blue look got lost in the shades of the lounge during dinners, and if his mother spoke to him, he answered with movements of head or growls. Sometimes Severus wondered if he would have become mute in time. Always he was distant with him, almost all the time, he acted as if he didn´t see him, or as if he had simply  stopped existing. Severus in occasions crossed in his walk, only to force him to be aware of his materiality. Then, his father looked at him with tose empty eyes, and avoided him as if he were furniture. Severus then felt his chest hurting and his eyes burning, but nothing was said. He didn´t want look like a weak person.  

His mother would say that he was a weak child, and that it was shaming her, because she was the person in charge of his education.  

"With you I have failed", she said, "you are a failure, Severus". Her words also made his chest hurt, but they also brought a cold anger which clouded his sight.   When he was in sixth year, already he had lost the hope to change her mind. 

Probably he was a failure, besides an *ugly know-it-all mean large-nosed slimy intolerable and wicked git*, with greasy hair. All that was the same to him, because Malfoy... Lucius Malfoy was his friend.   

His friend... 

Severus did not know very well how that had begun. Probably ... after the experience in the alley under the Whomping Willow, when he had discovered that Remus Lupin was a werewolf. He could have died murdered, or transformed into a werewolf because Black's prank, but... but ... for whom had that mattered? The Headmaster had looked at him with these undecipherable eyes, almost full of a sorrow and nevertheless severe, and had said to him that he would have to support the secret. If not, the only one expelled from the school would be him. 

Him. 

Very well. 

Severus had hated the sorrow in these clear blue eyes, and he had promised it. 

Very well. 

In the end, he was in debt with James Potter. He had risked his life for saving him. Though who the hell had asked him for it? 

Very well. 

He had returned to his House bedroom, pale with fury, with the fists clenched with hatred.  

Very well.

It would not be said to anybody. Who was going to want to listen to him? The pain in his chest that night was crushing, physical, real. But he did not want to go to the Hospital wind, did not wish attract any more attention on himself. He only wanted to go to bed and close the curtains and disappear and cry. 

And he had cried very softly, or he had tried, because he didn´t want to wake up any classmates. Because he needed to cry but not to explain, if someone had taken the trouble to ask.   On the following morning, nobody seemed to have found out about anything. But with the passing of the weeks, Severus noticed Malfoyapproaching him.Initially he had been surprised, or almost startled, by his classmate's interest. He confessed his doubts to him, he asked his opinions. His opinion, him of the all people! He was very skilled at opening conversation, even with someone so quiet. At worst always it was possible complain about Gryffindors. 

When the summer arrived he was thinking a lot about him, and by seventh year their relationship improved yet more. Lucius was taking the liberty of putting his arm around his shoulders, smiling that special smile that could melt all the girls in his House and half of them in the others. Not to mention the boys, of course. Certainly, Malfoy was as successful as Black, and it was enough. Severus knew that his companion had gone out with an infinity of girls and many boys, and that the intimacies that he was sharing with him were given to many people. But he didn´t mind. He was not accustomed to physical contact; people always had avoided him. 

Malfoy's occasional hugs sent shivers for all his body, and his nearness carried the fresh aroma from his white neck to his nose bristling his skin. Severus knew that his reactions were not logical, and had begun to wonder if he liked the fair young man. It was hard to admit it, but, but... 

One day Malfoy took him to empty dungeon to study Potions. It was dark and cold, and there were several desks accumulated in a corner. But also there were several equipments for cauldrons, and there they would not have to worry for the classroom if anything was going out badly, or they stained too much . Exams were soon and his future was at stake... 

Severus had extracted already all ingredients and had arranged them on the table. He was opening the book when he felt Malfoy stick to his back. He stopped breathing. 

Lately Lucius had been in a bad mood, because his last fling, a girl of Ravenclaw and pureblood called Narcissa, was resisting hisadvances. On the same morning she had ignored him and Severus had felt an odd contentment in his soul, on having seen his  
friend to come back with face of frustration. He now was sticking to his back, and was murmuring honeyedly to his ear. 

-Mmmm... Sev ... you know that your nape smells wonderfully ...? 

Severus had not been capable of answering, not even of moving, when the later second he felt Malfoy's hot lips to cross his neck with smoothness. Then, withdrawing a long black lock out the way, he turned aside to his straight ear and began to bite and to suck it, detaining in his lobe and in the soft skin that was prickling behind. Severus could not suppress a moan of pleasure, accompanied of a general shake that forced him to lean on the table.

-Lu... Lucius ... – he whispered.

-Severus... 

Malfoy had begun to cross his torso with his delicate hands, looking for his tact under the clothes, pressing him more against the edge of the table. That pressure in his waist excited Severus, who moaned again. Lucius then changed the appearance of the situation.

Unforseeably, he bit him in the neck strongly. Severus shouted with pain, while Malfoy was forcing him to turn his head to kiss him in the lips. The kiss was violent, impulsive and with a slight aftertaste of blood. Severus could not breathe well, he was feeling dizzy and his heart beat so fast that seemed like his chest was going to explode. With hurried movements his couple took his robes from him, and again he pushed him on the desk.

-Lu... Lucius! – A confused and scared Severus whispered this time. 

-Keep silent! – Malfoy ordered with hoarse voice. 

Severus was noticing Malfoy's fingers unbuttoning his trousers, and he tried to prevent it uncomfortably, but the other took his hands from himself with abruptness. 

-I said be still...!!! –Lucius roared. 

Before Severus could try any words his trousers were around his knees, together with his underwear. 

Lucius bent him again on the desk, and Severus felt the warm and soft body of his friend caress his like silk. The sensation skin against skin extracted a purr from him. It felt strange that the heat could so shake him, that sensation of overwhelming intimacy. But those diffuse thoughts vanished when he noticed the hardness of his friend placed against his thighs. Only then, Severus had the clear understanding of what was about to happen, what in fact did happen. 

He was virgin, and nobody had dared to kiss him even at his seventeen years. Because of it, probably the fact that Malfoy was considering him to be attractive enough, or what it was, to support a sexual relation with him, filled him with pride and excitement. He stopped fighting against Malfoy and remained lax, obedient to the movements of the young man on him, ignoring deliberately the fear in his chest and his nerves. 

Lucius then, without more delay, placed against him and penetrated him with a hard thrust. 

//It has to hurt him...//, Severus thought coldly while his own hell in his body flooded and forced him to shout. In all his life he had never felt something like that, so totally and horribly painful. Malfoy was moving in a convulsive way, panting on his shoulders,  
fixing his nails to him as claws in his hips, taking him as a savage. Severus felt as if he would rip apart below. He lost the consciousness of how long his torture was and when it finished, he fell on the ground, unable to support himself on his shaky legs, choked by his sobs. 

Lucius behind him cleaned himself with a handkerchief, before he put up his trousers. Then he approached him and looked at him with those cold eyes, a mocking smile dancing on his red lips. 

-Are you crying, Sev? - The boy sighed for a long time. - I enjoyed it... You have a pretty ass... 

Severus thought that these words were an ugly prophecy. Lucius frowned. 

-Better we skip our Potions class. I will see you in Transfiguration. 

And he left. Just like that, without looking behind. Severus continued foolishly observing the door where the fair angel had gone out, still overwhelmed with pain. Then, his black look descended up to Malfoy's fallen handkerchief, stained with blood and semen. The blood ... that blood ... the young man realized that it had to be his. He touched himself shyly between his buttocks, there everything was hurting. When he looked at his fingers they were red, and Severus could not suppress a choked sob. 

A long moment he remained there, crying, before assembling the sufficient will to raise and to go away with relative normality to the bedroom of his House. 

Malfoy had liked that one, so the experience was repeated  several times in Hogwarts. Later the two separated, though they continued see each other as Deatheaters. Malfoy had suggested a couple of times that they go on, but Severus had managed to avoid the meeting. They were meeting "to work", losing time was out of the question. Until one year and two months. 

Lucius had married Narcissa, and was very satisfied. An heir was wanted for his house, and soon. It was evident to Severus that he did not love Narcissa. Two days after his wedding he had insinuated himself in his own house, with his flaming new wife in the upper floor. 

Severus was finding Malfoy's fixation with his person genuinely surprising. What demons did the devil see in him? Already it was very clear that apart from the physical pleasure the affair didn´t have any meaning anymore, but nonetheless it was strange... He was not handsome, not attractive. He had a thin and lean, fibrous body, but people fled in view of his sallow skin and his face. All except Malfoy. The lewd look in the gray eyes was making him sick. 

He did not want sexual relations with anybody any more. The idea gave him nausea. 

Nevertheless, now he had his motives. Severus listened to the rain outside to be mixed with his lover's breathing and with his own. Hour of working. 

The young man got up of the bed like a cat, without making the slightest sound. In these instants he was grateful for the hard rebukes of his mother, which had taught him to move him like a ghost to avoid the punishments. Behind him he could hear Malfoy sleeping, slowly, serenely. 

The half of his attention was devoting itself to listen to his breathing, to monitor least change in him. 

The house was silently. His lover had made clear to him that Narcissa had gone with Draco, his newborn son, to his mother´s house, where they would stay the weekend. He was very proud of his baby, fair with gray eyes like his; an authentic Malfoy. One more bastard adding to the powerful family well placed next to the Dark Lord. 

Because though Severus was an important Deatheater, one of the internal circle of Voldemort, a right-hand man; Malfoy, was even more prominent. His house was a meeting place for the Deatheaters, and because of this, important information could be  found here. Severus knew it, and had discovered where Lucius was guarding it. In his bedroom, in the commode under the mirror, protected by many ingenious spells. 

The principal one was a glamour of high quality, which offered an alternative reality to the commode, one that was very difficult to notice. That is to say, Narcisa could approach there calmly, open all the booths and to guard her jewels and handkerchiefs. But under that apparent reality, and protected by other charms, the real commode was situated, with vital information neatly tidy.

Severus shrank of shoulders, he was naked and aching, and in the house it was cold. With several movements of his wand opened the bolts of the commode; he was good at it, very skilled. Though Lucius had put an alarm in his consciousness, the potion that Severus had diluted in his glass before his sex meeting would make it slip by. He was very proud of this potion, one of his more recent inventions for this type of task. 

When he had finished, he opened the second booth to the right. He detained to listen, Malfoy's dream was firm. There were several reports, lists of aims, planes of the houses that would be assaulted. Severus didn´t pay any attention to any of that; already it was known, and by Dumbledore too. He was looking for something very concrete, this night's assault. 

He had not been told against whom it would be. This was rare.  He was always informed. If the Dark Lord was taking these precautions, he had something especially bad in mind. Severus was suspecting in an action against aurors. Many of his companions were becoming nervous before an assault against the powerful and well-trained aurors of the Ministry; they were usually life or death struggles. This made him nervous also, though for different reason: he had sworn Dumbledore that he would not return to kill. But this would be a difficult promise to keep with an auror trying to murder him in turn. Yes, very difficult. 

The young man passed his long fingers on the sheets, frustrated. At all, he was not finding anything... Then something called his attention. It was a report on Cresus Muller, a strong man of the department, Barty Crouch's right hand. There was quite information about him and his family, planes of the house, up to a list of the defenses of this one and the names of the aurores that were protecting him. 

It was a very bad sign.

He began to search frantically a date; it had to be, had to be... This type of reports always had date, at least a pointed week. When he found it he remained livid. 

It was this week. 

They were on Saturday, which was stopping this night and the Sunday following one to realize the assault. 

Bad, very bad. He had to warn Dumbledore ... but how? Tonight he had his own mission... 

Probably, probably ... would he have to go there? Severus denied with the head, while he was guarding everything and began to re-do the charms. If tonight he had had to attack Muller's house, they would have told him, like always. 

Probably Voldemort was trying to strike simultaneously. Or to distract the attention of the aurors with the assault that he had assigned this night, and this way to have a better access to Muller. He had read that Dunke and Strauss were doing bodyguard, and this two were strong types. 

Yes, this was a commendable idea... 

Severus left his wand in the pocket of his tunic and got into the bed. Malfoy to his side remained slept, ignorant about his small snooping. He looked at him: slept, Lucius was beautiful. With that skin so pale that it seemed transparent, and those soft and manly features. With the closed eyes there was no sign of the sheen of cruelty that swam in the gray and cold depths of his look. He looked almost like an innocent angel, locks of silver hair darkening his forehead. _He was beautiful, very beautiful, seeming in every way the opposite of what he really was._ When he was sleeping, Severus could even find his company nice.   
  


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I hope you liked this!!! Please, give me an opportunity. This will be better!!!


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